


The Only Ones

by zelda_zee



Category: Lost
Genre: F/F, F/M, Multi, Polyamory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-25
Updated: 2013-08-25
Packaged: 2017-12-24 15:34:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/941621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zelda_zee/pseuds/zelda_zee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The only survivors of Flight 815 to make it off the island try to figure out what’s next.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Only Ones

  
They’re a long way from the island, nothing to see out the window but the endless blue sky, when Kate manages to disengage her hand from Claire’s without waking her. She moves into the seat beside Sawyer and says, “So, how’re we gonna do this?”

She watches Sawyer’s jaw unclench, watches him draw a surreptitious, shaky breath. “How’re we gonna do what?”

“Any of it. We’re probably all presumed dead – second time around for me. I just don’t see how we’re going to pull it off.”

“I can help with that.” Richard’s looking back and forth between them. He appears to have regained his equanimity, as unruffled now as Kate once thought he always was. “I have… resources. Jacob made sure that there were contingency plans for all types of eventualities.”

“Really?” Kate says doubtfully. “Even for _this_ type of eventuality?”

“Yes, Kate. Even for this.”

Kate meets Sawyer's eyes and he shrugs. “Well, I guess since that bastard Jacob owes us on a whole score of counts, it’s only right if he helps us outta this jam from beyond the grave.”

“When we land in Fiji,” Richard says, “let me handle everything. I have contacts there.”

It’s remarkable how changed Richard is, Kate thinks. Back to that mysterious, confident man who they thought held all the answers. She hopes, for their sakes, that in this case he does.

 

 

 

They stay at a secluded house on the coast. The views are expansive, the furnishings luxurious. _Jacob’s house_ , Richard calls it. Kate just knows that there’s beer in the fridge and hot water coming out of the tap and big beds with clean sheets and soft mattresses. They all sleep a lot, Claire in Kate’s bed, too afraid to be alone, but that’s okay. The bed’s enormous and Claire is tiny. Kate doesn’t even know she’s there.

It takes about a week, but Richard’s as good as his word. There are new identities, bank accounts, cash; everything they need to start over.

Miles decides he’s going to stay in Fiji with Richard, at least for now. It surprises the hell out of Kate, makes her watch them more carefully, trying to figure out if there’s something going on. She can’t tell and she doesn’t know either of them well enough to ask.

Frank decides to stay too, but Kate thinks that’s just inertia. He’s hitting the bottle pretty hard, and she’s got a feeling it’s going to get worse before it gets better. There’s nothing she can do about it though. Frank’s a good guy, and he saved their asses a few times, but he’s not her problem.

Kate knows what her job is. She’s got two people to look after – Claire, who’s scared all the time and still can’t find her way from the living room to their bedroom after being in the house for a week, and Sawyer, who’s barely said a word since they got off the plane and spends most of his time on one of the balconies, staring out to sea like he’s staring into the depths of Hell.

Kate’s not all that good at taking care of people, but she makes sure they eat a little something, that they don’t sit off in a corner by themselves for too long. It gives her something to think about besides the future.

 

 

On the second morning at the house Claire asks Kate to cut her hair. They combed all the tangles and rat’s nests out, but it still doesn’t look right. They sit on the beach and Claire’s long, blond tresses fall to the sand. It reminds Kate of the island, of course, of cutting Sawyer’s hair after his fever.

Kate cuts Claire’s hair short, like a boy’s. It’s the only way to salvage what she can.

When she comes around to see how it looks in front, Claire’s crying, tears streaking her face, dripping off her chin.

“Oh sweetie, don’t cry,” Kate says, putting down the scissors and framing Claire’s face with her hands. “It’ll grow back, I promise.”

“It’s not th-that,” Claire stutters. The tears well up and spill over nonstop. “I should’ve stayed, Kate. I’ll never be able to do this.”

“You will,” Kate says, not sure herself whether it's true, but forcing certainty into her voice. “You _will_. I’ll help you and James will help you. We won’t leave you alone.”

And just like that, there’s a plan. The three of them will go to Australia, find Aaron, start a new life as new people, see if they can find a reason to keep going.

“You’re coming with me? To get Aaron?”

“If you want us to.”

Claire throws her arms around Kate and hugs her close. Kate reaches up and strokes her hair. It’s so soft, like downy feathers

“I’m sorry,” Claire says, sitting back, wiping her eyes and sniffling. “God, I’m such a mess. I don’t know how you put up with me.”

Kate smiles. “It’s not that hard.”

They sit quietly for a few minutes, then Claire says, “I think it’s right for us to be together. The three of us. We were all there from the beginning. We’re the only ones left who knew everyone. We’re the only ones who understand.” She stares out to sea, blinking fast, her lips trembling. “We’re the only ones who know – who know what we lost.”

Kate puts her arm around Claire’s shoulders and pulls her close. Claire leans her head on Kate’s shoulder.

“He’d be so happy that you made it,” Kate says. “It’s what he wanted, to give you and Aaron a chance. He loved you so much.”

“I know,” Claire says. Kate has to lean closer to hear her over the sound of the waves. “I didn’t love him enough.” Kate doesn’t say anything. She’s hardly one to talk about love.

 

 

That night, Claire rolls over as they’re lying in bed, leans up on an elbow and kisses her. Kate doesn’t move, frozen in the dark.

“You can tell me to stop,” Claire says.

“No, it's okay.” Kate turns onto her side so she can see Claire, just her outline and the gleam of her eyes visible in the dark room. “It’s just – you’ve been through a lot, Claire. I don’t want you to do something you’ll regret.”

“I won’t regret this.” Claire walks her fingers down Kate’s bare arm.

“I don’t think this is what you need,” Kate whispers when Claire smooths her hair back from her forehead.

“No offense, Kate,” Claire says, and her voice has a hard edge to it that wasn’t there back when they first met. “But you know fuck-all about what I need.”

Claire kisses her again, and this time it’s more demanding, hungry. Kate doesn’t stop her because Claire’s right; who is she to decide what any of them need? She never even knew what she needed until it was too late.

Now she just wants to forget. Forget the island, forget Jack. Just for a few minutes.

Claire’s almost feral, a little frightening. She holds Kate down and takes what she wants, long, deep kisses, their bodies twined around each other’s. Claire’s fingers stroke down Kate’s belly, insinuate themselves between her thighs and rub gently over her pussy, surprisingly unhesitant. Kate doesn’t expect it to affect her the way it does, but she’s soon spreading her thighs wider and clutching at Claire, her breathing fast and loud in the quiet room.

Claire moves to kneel over her, watching Kate’s face as she touches herself. Kate takes her hips and pulls her forward, the scent of sex hitting her as Claire reaches down and holds herself open. She rocks and keens as Kate licks, her fingers digging into Claire’s thighs, her hips hitching involuntarily. She didn’t know she wanted this, but she does, she wants it so much. She groans when Claire comes, the sound lost beneath Claire’s moans.

Claire scoots down her body, plants her palms on the inside of Kate’s legs and pushes them up. She feels wet and swollen, all of her awareness there, in that aching, insistent place between her legs. Claire puts her mouth on Kate’s clit, drags her tongue across it, slow and filthy, and Kate gasps, convulses, arching up as everything goes perfectly, blessedly still.

Afterwards, she stares at the ceiling, watching the shadows that the trees outside the windows cast.

“It’s too soon, isn’t it?” Claire says into the silence. “I forgot. I was alone for a long time, but you –”

Kate feels her eyes well unexpectedly with tears and she angrily blinks them away. “How do you stand it?” she says.

“I don’t know,” Claire says quietly. She rests her hand on Kate’s bare stomach. “I never figured that out.”

 

 

The next morning Kate brings Sawyer coffee. He’s in his usual spot on the balcony, staring at the ocean. “You’re coming with us, James. To Sydney.”

He lifts an eyebrow. “Am I?”

Kate curls up in a chair, takes a sip of coffee, following his gaze out to sea. There’s nothing out there, just blue sky and blue sea and a whole lot of emptiness. And, somewhere, the island that took everything they loved.

“Yep. You, me and Claire. It makes sense for us to stick together.” Sawyer doesn’t say anything, so Kate forges on. “We’ll find Aaron, figure out a way to live.” She waits, but still nothing. “Claire needs us.” Sawyer looks at her then, eyes narrowed.

“What’s goin’ on with you and Mamacita?”

“Nothing’s going on. I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Kate can’t hold his eyes though, and that gives her away.

Sawyer snorts, his lips twitching almost into a smile. It’s the most expressive she’s seen him since they got here. “You know, time was, you had a pretty good poker face.”

“Yeah, well.” Kate sighs. “Time was, I had a lot of things I don’t have now.”

“You and me both, Freckles,” Sawyer says. “You and me both.”

They sit in silence, drinking their coffee. When Kate finishes hers, she gets to her feet.

“I’ll come with you,” Sawyer says, looking up at her. “Got nowhere else to go.” Grief has etched deep lines in his face, left dark circles under his eyes. He looks old and tired and inestimably sad and nothing like the cocky, pissed-off son of a bitch he'd been when she met him.

When she reaches the door, she turns back to thank him, but the words die on her lips. He’s staring out at the ocean again, stony-faced and hollow-eyed, like he’s trying to will it into coughing up his salvation.

 

 

 _It’s too soon,_ Claire had said, and she’s right. They should stop, wait until Claire’s better and Kate’s not consumed with guilt and grief. But they don’t. It’s a comfort to both of them to lose themselves in skin and sex. The nights are long, and at least with Claire writhing against her Kate doesn’t have to remember.

They don’t talk about it. It's just something that happens in the dark, in the safety of that big bed in the house by the sea. Kate doesn’t know what will happen when they leave, whether a return to the real world will mean the end of Claire’s sweet, heady kisses. She doesn’t care. This is what she needs now, and what Claire needs. It’s a matter of survival, and if there’s one thing Kate’s good at, it’s survival.

 

 

They say goodbye to Miles and Richard, promising to stay in touch, waving as the taxi pulls away. Frank is already gone, they don’t know where. He left a note, _Good luck. Hope our paths don’t cross again – F_.

The house fades into the distance and Kate stares out the window. She’s already put Miles and Richard behind her. They never really mattered anyway.

 

 

Sydney is big and noisy, too much for any of them. Sawyer wraps a protective arm around Claire as she huddles against him, shaking at the bustle and commotion of the airport. He’s not all that much better, Kate can tell, though he’s doing a decent job of faking it.

Kate just grits her teeth, gets them through customs. No luggage for any of them, just half-empty backpacks, so they head straight to the car rental. Kate steers them through it all, lets Sawyer and Claire guard the luggage while she haggles them into a SUV for an economy car price.

They find a hotel, a big, glass tower. They get a suite, Kate and Claire in one room, Sawyer in the other. Claire goes into the bathroom and shuts the door behind her. A moment later Kate hears her talking, then the sound of sobbing.

“She’s calling her mother,” Kate explains when Sawyer looks like he’s thinking about breaking down the door.

Sawyer nods and sits back down on the bed, head bowed, studying his hands. Kate has no idea what he’s thinking, what he sees when he looks at his hands. To Kate, they’re beautiful, always have been and nothing’s changed that. But she knows that’s not what Sawyer sees. He probably sees hands that killed and cheated, hands that couldn’t hold on when it counted most, hands covered in blood.

She sits beside him and rests her head on his shoulder. “I’m glad you’re here,” she says.

They look up as the door to the bathroom opens and Claire emerges, red-faced, wiping her eyes with her sleeve.

“It’s okay,” she says, voice quavering. “Everything’s okay. Aaron’s fine. Mum wants us to come over now. Can we?”

“Hell yeah, we can,” Sawyer says, getting to his feet.

“I’m so glad,” Kate says, hugging Claire tightly. “They’ll be so happy to see you, baby.”

The endearment just slips out, and she looks up at Sawyer over Claire’s shoulder, unsure of his reaction. He smiles at her like he knew all along and rests a hand on Claire’s shoulder.

“You gonna be okay?” he asks Kate, while Claire’s changing clothes.

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

Sawyer gives her a knowing look. “You were that kid’s mom, and now suddenly you’re gonna be playin’ second fiddle. Gotta be hard to swallow.”

“It’s just the way it is,” Kate says stubbornly, managing a smile. “The way it _should_ be. I’ll be fine.”

 

 

They pull up outside the house. Kate stares at it for a moment, her hands tense on the wheel.

“I’m gonna wait,” she says. “You guys go ahead.”

Claire gives her a disbelieving look. “Screw that,” she says. “You’re coming.”

“Claire, I –”

Claire rounds on her, eyes blazing. “Shut up, Kate. For all Aaron knows, you’re his mother and you left him. I get why you did it, but he’s just a little kid. There’s no way he could understand. He should at least get to see that you’ve come back.”

When Kate doesn’t budge, Claire sneers, “You’re just scared.”

Kate’s shaking as she gets out of the car, but Sawyer’s hand is at her back, just for a moment, just a touch to say that he’s there if she needs him. She would have chafed at that kind of gesture once, but now she’s grateful for it. She’s not sure that’s a good thing.

 

 

It takes a while to get settled – find a place, buy a car, get phones and furniture and a computer, stock the cupboards and the fridge. Aaron stays with his grandma, but Kate and Claire visit him every day.

The place they rent is an old farmhouse out in what used to be the country, but what's now something closer to a suburb. There’s a decent lawn and a few fruit trees, a small back patio where Sawyer puts the grill. Nobody’s farmed here in decades and the field behind their little oasis lies fallow, their only crops weeds and grasshoppers.

It’s quiet, that’s the main thing. Sometimes when the wind’s blowing from the south they can hear the highway, but apart from that there’s just birdsong and the occasional dog barking or rooster crowing and the chirp of insects. Claire hums and talks to herself, a near constant, low-level sound. Sawyer whistles as if he hasn’t a care in the world, sings sometimes, in a surprisingly melodious voice. Kate’s pretty quiet. Most of the time, she sticks to only talking when she has something to say.

None of them have to work. Richard said he’d take care of it, and he’s as good as his word. On the fifth of every month a deposit appears in their bank accounts, more money than they need to live comfortably. Apparently Jacob had deep pockets. They don’t ask where the money comes from. None of them are the inclined to question it after what they’ve been through. They’re owed, simple as that.

 

 

Once the house is ready Aaron starts staying with them during the week, going back to his grandmother’s house on the weekend. He’s a godsend, forcing all three of them out of their various stages of grief and apathy. He doesn’t let Sawyer wall himself off or Claire drift away into the world inside her head – he demands attention and he demands it _now_. He’s exhausting, but there are three of them. Sawyer jokes that all of them together make a halfway decent parent.

 

 

Sawyer’s writing something – a book, Kate suspects. He won’t let them read it. The only thing he tells them is that it’s not about the island.

“Couldn’t write about that,” he says. “Too many stories that ain’t mine to tell.”

“What do you think it’s about?” Claire asks her as they’re lying in bed one night.

“I think it’s his story, from before.” Kate's voice is hushed, as if Sawyer might be listening. “Sometimes it seems funny that we all had lives _before_ , you know?” She turns onto her side, resting her head on her arm. “What do you know about James’?”

“Not much. He was a con man, I know that.”

“He doesn’t talk about it, but he might tell you, if you ask him.” Kate doesn’t think there’s anyone alive other than Claire who might get that story out of Sawyer. He’s always had a soft spot for her though and it could be enough to make him open up.

Claire runs her fingertips down Kate’s side, following the dip of her waist and the curve of her hip. “ _You_ could tell me.”

Kate smiles. “Sorry. Not my story to tell.”

Claire’s fingers follow the crease of Kate’s thigh until they slide into her pubic hair, stroke gently, nails lightly scratching. Kate parts her legs and sighs when Claire slides a finger between her lips and up inside her where she’s wet. Kate shivers, tension making her muscles tighten. Claire knows just how to touch her now, just how to get her going, fingers slick with her own juices rubbing over her clit then dipping inside again for more.

“Maybe we should bring him into this,” Claire says.

“What?” Kate's not really paying attention.

“Sawyer. Maybe we should see if he wants to join us. In bed.” She takes her hand away and Kate swears under her breath, which makes Claire chuckle.

“ _Now?_ ”

Claire shrugs. “Or later. We don’t have to. It’s just an idea.” Kate says nothing, trying to imagine it – her, Claire and Sawyer. It seems like so long ago that she and Sawyer had been… together, or whatever they were then. It had been a mistake in a lot of ways, but she can’t deny that they never had any trouble connecting sexually. “He’s so alone, Kate.”

Kate’s shaking her head without even realizing it. “It’s not us he wants.”

“I know. But we’re what he’s got.”

“We wouldn’t be enough.”

Claire’s tracing a pattern onto the sheet with her finger, a figure 8 maybe or a spiral. “But maybe we’d be better than being alone.”

Kate thinks about this, about what it would mean to bring Sawyer into their bed. Claire wants it – wants _him_. If Kate’s honest, she can admit that she’s known Claire’s wanted him for a long time. And Sawyer – he needs someone to take care of, and someone to take care of him. It can’t be her, not with all their history, and she wouldn’t want that anyway. But maybe it could be Claire.

“You have to ask him. He wouldn’t take it right, coming from me.”

Claire smiles and pulls Kate closer, her hand slipping between Kate’s thighs again, and Kate closes her eyes and tries not to think of it as a reward for having given Claire what she wanted.

 

 

The next day is Friday and Aaron goes to his grandmother’s and that night Claire brings Sawyer into their bedroom. She’s leading him by the hand and he’s got a wary look in his eyes, but he’s doing his best to play it cool and lay on the charm, as if they don’t know him well enough to see through the act.

“Didn’t know you were this kinky, Freckles,” Sawyer says with a smile. “Shoulda told me way back when. We could’ve worked something out with Mamacita here, or one of the other girls. I’m pretty sure Ana Lucia would’ve been game.”

“Shut up, James,” Kate says. She’s already wondering if she’s going to regret this.

“Yeah, Sawyer,” Claire says, giving him a push toward the bed. “Shut up.”

“Okay, okay.” Sawyer raises his hands in mock surrender. “Ladies in charge, I get it. If you just wanna use me for my body, you go right ahead.”

“Good,” Claire says, grinning up at him. “Then take your clothes off and get in bed.”

Kate stays on the periphery, offering touches and kisses, but lets it be Claire’s show. It’s no sacrifice really, to sit back and watch. Claire and Sawyer are ridiculously pretty together and Kate admits to a prurient fascination with seeing both of these people who she knows so intimately be intimate with each other. It’s a relief to see something other than grief on Sawyer’s face, to see the deep furrows smooth out and the dark circles fade. He smiles when Claire climbs on top of him, before she sinks down on his cock and his head falls back against the pillow.

He’s quiet and that’s different. Sawyer liked to talk during sex, to make filthy promises and run his mouth off about all the things he wanted to do. Now he bites his lip and nothing but strangled moans escape. Kate think he’s afraid he’ll say the wrong name - _her_ name.

She straddles Sawyer’s legs and kneels up behind Claire. Her hands on Claire’s hips force her to move faster, harder. Claire’s head falls back onto Kate’s shoulder and she leans back into her, crying out when Kate finds her clit, flicks it with her fingertip. Sawyer's watching, so she holds Claire’s pussy open, lets him see how swollen and wet she is, lets him see her stroking Claire’s clit until she comes with a sobbing wail.

Claire collapses down on top of Sawyer, gasping for breath, and he rolls her over, plunges into her again and again, big hands dark on her pale thighs. Claire wraps her arms around him and Kate can hear her voice but not her words as she whispers into Sawyer’s ear. He buries his face in Claire’s neck and clasps her tightly as he goes over, tense and shaking, a groan dredged up out of him that he can’t quite hold back.

There’s a moment of quiet, and then Claire wiggles out from under Sawyer, pulls Kate down onto the bed.

“Was that okay?” Claire asks breathlessly, crouched above Kate on all fours. “You didn’t mind?”

“It’s fine,” Kate says, smoothing her hand over Claire’s short hair. “I promise.”

Claire leans down and kisses her, breathes _thank you_ against her lips, before she kisses her way down Kate’s torso. Her mouth is sweet and clever between Kate’s legs, and she moans, forgetting Sawyer for a moment, until she opens her eyes and sees him there, watching out of heavy-lidded eyes.

He doesn’t try to kiss her, hasn’t since they started. Had he kissed Claire? Kate’s not sure, but she thinks maybe not. He takes her nipple into his mouth, sucks and licks, fingers joining Claire’s tongue in her pussy. Kate gasps as her body seizes in the blinding onrush of orgasm, too sudden and powerful for her to stifle the wounded-sounding cry that springs to her lips.

Kate lays there afterward, limp and stunned, as Claire crawls up between her and Sawyer and makes herself comfortable, arranging blankets and pillows to her liking before burrowing in like a small woodland creature making a nest. Kate meets Sawyer’s eyes over her and he gives her a rueful smile as if to say, _Well, here we are, Freckles_. She rests her arm over Claire’s waist and he takes her hand, presses a kiss to her palm, before he rolls over, facing away from them.

Claire spoons up behind him with a contented sigh, hand encircling his waist. Kate hears Sawyer’s breathing hitch, before it evens out again.

They spend the weekend in bed. Eventually Sawyer kisses them both. Eventually he and Kate fuck. It takes a few tries, but they start to figure out how they fit together. Kate has to admit that Claire was right. Something had been missing between the two of them. It turns out that something had been Sawyer.

 

 

It goes on for a few months, before Kate decides it’s time. Claire’s back on her feet even if she sticks close to home and doesn’t sleep through most nights. Sawyer’s doing okay, busy with Aaron and his writing and looking after the house and ‘his girls’ as he calls them. There’s no reason for Kate to stay. A voice at the back of her mind says, _No reason other than that you want to_ , but she ignores it. She’s never gotten anywhere by staying in one place, sees no reason to change that now.

“You take care of her. She needs you, James,” Kate says, checking the contents of her bag. She’s got her sunglasses, the printout with her flight info, the cell phone Claire insisted that she take.

“She needs _you_ , Freckles.”

“I’ll be back. I’ll come visit.” Maybe it’s the truth.

Maybe.

Sawyer doesn’t say a word. He knows her too well.

 

 

Sawyer and Claire drive her to the airport. That’s different. She’s never had anyone see her off before.

Disregarding her protests, they walk her up to the security line. Claire’s crying, her hand tucked into Kate’s.

Kate doesn’t cry.

“Call me,” Claire says, her eyes pleading. “Please don’t – don’t – don’t –”

“Don’t be a stranger,” Sawyer finishes for her, and they all know that’s not what Claire was going to say, but it’s easier to let it go. “Sure you don’t have anything in your bag that’s gonna set off those metal detectors?” Sawyer gestures to the security station, the guards, the x-ray machines, a crooked smile on his face.

Kate smiles, clutching her passport. She’s got no reason to be nervous, but old habits die hard.

They’ve almost reached the front of the line. Claire hugs her hard, her tears wet on Kate’s neck. “Don’t go,” she whispers. Then, when Kate stiffens and says nothing she pulls back, tilts her head with that awkward, self-deprecating smile Kate knows so well and says, “Or, well... just come back to us someday.”

Kate squats down and gives Aaron a hug. “Take care of Mommy,” she says.

“Okay, Mommy,” he answers.

 _I can’t do this_ , she thinks. She can’t remember why she needs to leave anymore.

She stands, and Sawyer hugs her, kisses her forehead. There’s nothing left to say. They exhausted their supply of goodbyes a long time ago.

Kate moves forward to get her boarding pass stamped. She can feel them behind her, waiting, watching, willing her to turn around, to smile, to wave. She takes off her jacket and shoes and belt, puts everything in the bins, passes through the metal detector, takes everything out of the bins, puts on her jacket and shoes and belt.

She’s free. On her own again, on the move. Kate breathes a sigh of relief and wills herself not to look back. She doesn’t quite manage it though, can’t resist the urge for one last look before she turns the corner.

They’re standing together, Sawyer’s arm around Claire’s shoulders, Aaron holding tight to his other hand. There’s no mistaking them for anything other than what they are – a family. She could have been a part of that picture, they would have made room for her. But it’s better this way – better for all of them.

She rounds the corner and does her best to disappear.

 

 

It’s a few years before Kate makes it back to Sydney. She can’t fool herself that she’s just passing through, just there for a visit. Australia isn’t on the way to anywhere.

She’s tired down to her bones, weary of looking for a way to settle and not finding one. She’s stopped lying to herself. Everything she's got left to care about in this world is in Sydney.

They’ve moved and it takes a while to find them. The house is a bit nicer, a bit closer to town, but still pretty unprepossessing. It’s on a quiet, tree-lined street, with a nice yard and a little wrought iron fence in front.

She can hear a baby crying as she rings the doorbell and wonders if she’s got the wrong house. Aaron would be almost seven, too old to wail like that.

But it’s Claire who answers the door, looking a little plumper, a little older, but otherwise she’s the same sweet-faced girl Kate met on an unnamed beach all those years ago.

Claire’s eyes go wide with astonishment, her hand coming to her mouth. She stands frozen for a moment before she whoops loudly, flinging herself at Kate, who staggers at the impact.

“Sawyer!” Claire yells over her shoulder, then to Kate. “You’re here! You’re all right? Don’t you _ever_ leave us again!” Claire kisses her hard on the lips then hugs her again. Kate still hasn’t said a word, feeling uncharacteristically overwhelmed. She hugs Claire back, heart beating hard, and tries to gather her wits while Claire clings like a vine.

“What?” Sawyer’s there in the doorway, and the cause of the wailing is in his arms, an infant only a few months old. His mouth drops open when he sees Kate. “Holy shit.”

“I – I –” Kate has no idea what to say, even though she’d planned it all out ahead of time. She stares at the baby, then at Sawyer, then Claire. “Is that..?”

Claire takes Sawyer’s hand, draws him closer so Kate can see. “This is Jack,” she says, caressing the baby’s tiny foot. “He’s three months old today.”

“Oh my God,” Kate breathes, looking back and forth between them. “He’s yours?”

“Yeah,” Claire says. “What a surprise, huh?”

“I – wow. Congratulations.” The baby has stopped crying and is staring at Kate out of deep blue eyes. She reaches a finger toward him and he grabs it in his fist. “He’s beautiful.”

“Come on in,” Sawyer says, stepping back into the house. “Aaron’s out back with – um – with Clementine.”

“Clementine?”

“Yeah, Clementine’s here for her summer vacation,” Claire explains. “We’ve been taking her for a couple of years now.”

Kate swallows. So much has changed – new house, new baby, Sawyer’s daughter a part of their lives. Sawyer and Claire look different too. Gone is the gauntness, the haunted, hollow look in Sawyer’s eyes, the fear in Claire’s.

In all the time she’d been gone, she hadn’t called, hadn’t written. She’d conveniently left her cell phone behind in the ladies room at the Sydney airport when she left, had never bothered with another one. So she’s got no one to blame but herself that she’s blindsided by the incontrovertible evidence that life has gone on without her.

Sawyer’s hand lands on her shoulder and he pulls her into an embrace while Claire stands to the side, holding the baby – _Jack_. They named him Jack. That’s going to take some getting used to.

Sawyer holds her for a long time, and Kate guesses that it speaks volumes that she lets him.

“You ready to hang up your spurs yet, Freckles?” he asks finally.

“We’ll see,” Kate replies, not quite able to admit it.

“But you have to stay,” Claire says. “You have to.”

“Thanks.” Kate doesn't know how to respond. “I don't - I don't really have any plans.”

“You’ve got a home here, Kate, with us. Doesn’t she, Sawyer?”

Sawyer meets her eyes, and Kate knows he can read her, that he knows that she wants it to be different this time. It’s funny, he’s the only person who really knows her, him and Claire. There’s no one else.

“Any time you’re ready, Kate.” He smiles crookedly. “You know what they say, home is where, when you have to go there, they have to take you in.”

Kate looks at him for a minute, then at Claire, then at the baby she’s holding. “I want to stay,” she says. Claire's face lights up and Sawyer nods as if that settles it.

“Well, okay then,” he says. “C’mon in and take a load off. I’ll get you a beer. Here, give me your stuff.” He takes her backpack and tosses it on the couch. “The kids are outside, building a tree fort. You won’t believe Aaron, he’s grown so much.” He heads into the kitchen and rummages around in the fridge, presumably looking for beer.

Through the sliding glass door, Kate can see the kids playing. There’s a dog too, a scrawny-looking mutt with his tongue hanging out of his mouth. She can’t wait to hug Aaron, to see Clementine again, to learn the dog’s name, to hold little Jack in her arms.

“I’m glad you’ve come home,” Claire says, slipping her hand into Kate’s and squeezing it. “Don’t go away again.”

“I can’t promise.” She squeezes Claire’s hand in return. “But I’ll try.”

 


End file.
